ENGL
B6400: Theories and Models of Literacy
Professor
Barbara Gleason
October
20, 2015
Revised Draft
Revised Draft
Columbia Library RBML Visit:
Viewing Literacy in a New Light
The
beginning of this course, Theories and Models of Literacy, has introduced me to
the complex and fascinating history of written language in Western history. The
readings from Alberto Manguel and Alistair McGrath outlined and illustrated the
major shifts in written language: from an oral tradition of print literacy to a
silent reading tradition and from scribal literacy to print literacy. From our
readings, we know that there were many societal factors that aided in these
transitions. However, our class trip to the Columbia Library Rare Books and
Manuscripts Library (RBML) actually brought to life what our readings told us.
Being able to physically handle books made of parchment and paper,
crystallized/underscored the weight and implications of the history of
literacy. Due to our visit to the RBML, I was able to see just how entrenched
religion was in the acquisition of literacy, how the relationship between form
and function has always been inextricable linked in the physical form of books,
how visual design and multimodality has similarly persisted throughout the
ages, and just how much our shift in viewing visual cues for word and thought
separation has changed.
The centrality of religion in the
teaching of literacy was highlighted during
our visit to the RBML. In our reading of select chapters from McGrath’s book, In the Beginning, he explains this
emphasis on religion in the teaching of literacy. He states that “the
importance of the Bible went far beyond personal religious devotion and faith.
It was central to the life of Western European society in a way that we cannot
begin to imagine today”(2). Among the first artifacts that Dr. Consuelo Dutshke
presented were three tools for early literacy lessons. One of these artifacts was a plain
child’s primer book [Plimpton MS 258], another, a gilded child’s primer
[Plimpton MS 287], and the last was a small wooden hornbook [Plimpton Hornbook
No. 1]. The primers were really short books, no more than 4 to 10 pages long. The hornbook was small, as it could probably
fit into the palm of my hand. The first symbol that appears on each of these articles is the cross. The cross is then followed by the letters
of the alphabet, ending with liturgical pieces (the Lord's prayer, Ave Maria,
and various other prayers). The content of these three learning tools are
remarkably consistent despite their different forms. The gilded child's primer
was clearly meant for a child of a wealthy family. It is written in gold and
silver lettering with a vibrant blue for the accents, and it is riddled with
elaborate designs outside of the embellishments to the letters, such as swirls
at a bottom of a page. The plainer of the two only uses red ink as an accent to
set off the cross and the initial letters of some words, but that is the extent
of the decoration. I'm not sure who
would have used the hornbook—whether it was meant for a child of a wealthy or
middle-class family—but all of these artifacts reflect the importance of
religion during this time period. It is evident that, along with the alphabet,
people thought it was essential for children to be exposed to liturgical
material in their early education.
Regardless of what social class a person belonged to, this was clearly a
sustained value across the board.
Another
concept that this trip really brought to the fore was how the inextricable relationship
between form and function in books has persisted throughout the ages. In the chapter, “The
Shape of the Book,” Manguel tracks the shifts Western literate culture made in
the material and forms that the written language has manifested into. Starting
with clay tablets, Manguel describes the various materials used in the past to
capture written language: papyrus, then parchment, and eventually paper. He
also describes the advantages and disadvantages of different forms the
materials took: clay tablets were not as portable as scrolls; scrolls didn’t
allow for easy referencing as much as folded codices. All of these served specific purposes, and
their form reflected that purpose. The Assyrian Code of Laws was written in the
twelfth century BC and it “measures 67 square feet and carries its text in
columns on both sides” (126). While this form of text cannot be considered
particularly portable, it was a publically available reference and its form was
suitable for public consumption, something that I can see paralleled with
public signs and billboards in modern times. For individual usage, Manguel
states that “of all the shapes that books have acquitted through the ages, the
most popular have been those that allowed the book to be held comfortably in
the reader’s hand” (128). Therefore, a codex made of parchment or paper quickly
became a popular format for reading once the transition from oral reading to
silent reading was underway.
The imbricated relationship between the form and function of a
book is evident in three artifacts displayed by Dr. Dutshke : the Italian
doctor’s travel reference book full of medical recipes (Western MS 69,) the
ornate liturgical book (Plimpton MS 035,) and an Italian encyclopedia
(Plimpton MS 281.) All of these books have differing functions, and their forms
reflect those functions. The medical recipes book is small enough for a
travelling medical professional to carry around with him while making home
visits. While the wrapper is contemporary, I can imagine that the original
would have had a similar, flexible yet durable cover. While the medical recipes book is compact for
the need to take it with the user, the liturgical book is a relatively hefty
tome. It is bigger than the medical recipes book (sporting a 9x7 aspect ratio)
and seems to be intended to be used in a fixed place, either in church or at
home. The encyclopedia takes on yet another form, for it is yet another large
book, but the entries are indexed for ease of reference.
In
both chapters, "The Silent Readers" and "The Shape of the Book,”
Manguel explains the transition made from oral reading to silent reading. While
the transition had many contributing factors, one of the aspects Manguel
focuses on is the physical separation of words and the use of punctuation as a
couple of the visual cues that helped facilitate the transition from oral
reading to silent reading. However, these books show additional visual cues not
discussed at length in the chapters, and I find them just as interesting as
spaces and punctuation.
At the beginning of the presentation, Dr. Dutshke presented a
few artifacts which she highlighted for their word separation, visual cues, and script. The three that stood out to me were the Plimpton MS 58
(miscellaneous theological and exegetical texts,) Plimpton MS 026 (a French, 10th
century Bible written with Carolingian script), and the PA 6801 (a German
Facsimile of the 5th century Vergilius Mediceus.) All of these
proved to be robust examples of the transition from a scriptura continua (uninterrupted writing) to the separation of
words through spacing, font style, punctuation, and other visual cues. The
French Bible is of particular interest to me because of the information Dr. Dutshke
relayed about the writing in it. Dr. Dutshke stated that it was written in
Carolingian script, and that this script evolved as a way to standardize
writing so that it was legible. The importance of font is again repeated in
history when the printing press took over the mass production of text, and Francesco
Griffo’s italic font became a standard font for the sake of clarity (Manguel
137). This is yet again mirrored in the way that web and ebook designers
carefully select and create fonts. For example, Bookerly is a new font created
exclusively for reading on a Kindle device, and the creators boast that it is
based off of past font designs and uniquely optimized for a pleasant and easy
reading experience with reduced eyestrain (“New Bookerly Font and Typography”).
The Carolingian script, Griffo’s italic font, and even the latest Bookerly font
all show how much people in the past and present value clear visual cues, even
in the very font a text is written in.
Another visual cue that Dr. Dutshke introduced us to was that of
the
catchword. Catchwords were words
that were placed at the end of a page before the reader moves on to the next
page. The words would anticipate the word on the next page in order to make it
easier for the reader to keep her place. Catchwords were an interesting visual
mechanism that Manguel did not mention in the two chapters we read. I can
imagine that it played just as important role in the transition from oral
reading and silent reading as word separation and paragraphing, and its
disappearance is one that I’d like to explore at a later date.
While not exactly the focus of this class,
I also noticed that the interplay of the visual and textual have been experimented with for ages. By this, I mean the inclusion of images, word
bubbles, scribal artistry of the bible richness of the colors, and charts into
a primarily text-based document. In the case of the Italian school workbook
design, the book was both beautifully decorated with elaborate floral designs
on the name page, but it also included practical visual imagery such as charts,
tables, and illustrations that function as examples. In another artifact, there
was a cartoon, and the Italian Encyclopedia was beautifully illustrated with
both earthly and unearthly figures. While this is not quite the multimodality
of our current digital age, I found myself struck by this inclusion of so many
images and visuals in these manuscripts. In “The Silent Readers,” Manguel
mentions that while the scribes who worked during the transition from the
practice of scripture continua to the inclusion of spaces and punctuation
incorporated these features in order to “simplify the perusal of a text,”
scribes were also incorporating spaces and punctuation marks “for aesthetic reasons”
(50). Manguel doesn’t delve into this aesthetic reason further, but the
artistry exhibited in the many manuscripts is worthy of note. The scribes of
the past weren’t merely writers; they were also visual artists, and the works
they produced had a distinctly visual appeal, and this renewed interest in
multimodality may in fact be a return to the scribal artistic form.
Our class visit to the Rare Books and Manuscripts Library at
Columbia University served to enrich my understanding of the various concepts
we’ve read in Manguel and McGarth’s works, such as how the form and function of a print text are connected and how societal values are reflected in the content of the texts. As, I've mentioned before, I'm interested in learning more about the cueing systems, especially catchwords and the evolution of punctuation. This historical overview of the
beginnings of scribal and print literacy has made me more aware of my place as
a teacher or literacy, and I anticipate learning even more theories and models
that will inform my own teaching practices.
Works Cited
Manguel, Alberto. A
History of Reading. New York: Penguin Group, 1996. Print.
McGrath, Alistair. In the
Beginning: The Story of the King James Bible and How It Changed a
Nation, a
Language, and a Culture. New York: Anchor, 2002. Print.
"New Bookerly Font and
Typography Features." Amazon. N.p., 2015. Web. 20 Oct. 2015.
<http://www.amazon.com/b?node=11624010011>.
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